||• Jageer-e-Mohabbat - جاگیرِ محبت • ||

18. **Chapter Eighteen: The Crossroads of Fate** Urdu: تقدیر کے سنگم

The rain continued to pour heavily outside, creating a rhythmic patter against the windows of the Lakani haveli. Inside, the warmth of the kitchen contrasted sharply with the cold rain, as the women gathered, making chai and pakoras, their laughter and gossip filling the air. The entire family was home, finding comfort in each other's company, except for Barlas, who had gone to the city for a business deal.

In the living room, Dada Sai and the men discussed business matters. The conversation focused on the progress of a land deal they were trying to acquire in the city. Orazay, Sher Ali, and Mazhar sat in a corner, engaged in their own quiet conversation, while Bahram and Bahlaj talked nearby.

As their discussion continued, Dada Sai called Bahlaj over to have a chess match. Bahlaj reluctantly agreed and sat across from his grandfather, setting up the pieces. They played in relative silence, the only sounds being the click of chess pieces and the murmur of distant thunder.

"How is everything going?" Dada Sai asked, his eyes sharp and probing as he moved a knight.

"Everything is fine, Dada Sai," Bahlaj responded guardedly, focusing on the board. He knew his grandfather well enough to understand that this question was about more than just the game. Dada Sai had a way of seeing through people, of extracting truths even when none were offered.

"You've been spending a lot of time at the guest house," Dada Sai noted, moving his rook. "Is everything alright?"

Bahlaj nodded, moving his bishop. "Just taking care of some issues."

They continued their match, the rain outside a steady backdrop to their quiet exchange. When the game ended, Bahlaj stood up, intending to head out.

"I have some business to handle," he said, but Dada Sai stopped him.

"It's raining heavily," Dada Sai said, his voice firm. "You can handle it tomorrow. There's no need to go out tonight."

Reluctantly, Bahlaj agreed and stayed home. He went to his room, his thoughts turning to Sitara. She was alone at the guest house, and the thought of her being there alone worried him.

Meanwhile, at the guest house, Sitara sat alone, the heavy rain and occasional thunder making her uneasy. She tried to distract herself by reading, but the sounds of the storm were too overwhelming. Each flash of lightning and subsequent thunderclap made her jump, her heart racing.

Unable to take it any longer, she moved to the painting room, hoping that being surrounded by her art supplies would offer some comfort. She crouched in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. The familiar scent of paints and canvases offered a small measure of solace, but the storm outside continued to rage, its ferocity undiminished.

Back at the haveli, Bahlaj couldn't shake his concern. He paced his room, thinking about Sitara and her fear. His mind raced with thoughts of her being alone and scared. He knew he had to do something. Despite his grandfather's warning, he couldn't ignore his instincts.

Finally late at night when everyone was asleep, unable to stand it any longer, he grabbed his coat and keys to go to the guest house.

—----------

As the evening approached, Parishè's worry grew. She stood by the window in the living room, her eyes scanning the dark, rain-soaked path that led to the house. The occasional flash of lightning illuminated the scene, but there was no sign of Barlas.

Shah Nawaz entered the room, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Parishè beta, why are you still here? Go to your room. Do not worry, Barlas will come."